


Guard Dog

by fabricdragon



Series: Dogs and Cats [4]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Developing Relationship, Explicit Consent, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Masochism, No Safeword, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phil Anderson/Jim Moriarty, Rape/Non-con Elements, Safewords, mormor, prisoner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-06-07 14:12:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15220910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricdragon/pseuds/fabricdragon
Summary: Phil Anderson captured a sniper (in "Gifted")  and he needed a present for Jim Moriarty's Valentines Day.NOTE: mind the tags





	1. Better than Chocolate

Louise drove across to France.  She did that often enough for various reasons that no one even blinked.  There were two very special presents in the back of the van.  She giggled to herself as she told the customs guys it was candy for Valentine’s day–because it was.

Naturally they didn’t look.

She contacted Moriarty once they were clear. “Sir? I have a Valentine’s Gift for you.”

Moriarty’s familiar chuckle, “Does it explode?”

“Hmmm… it could … maybe… under the right conditions.  You’ll need a very secure room to unwrap him in.”

“Him?”

“No one you know, sir.” She added quickly, not wanting to mislead him into thinking it was anyone specific. “If you have a playroom I can have him all set up for you?”

Moriarty sounded very intrigued–he must be bored–“do tell… all right…” he gave her an address. “It’s empty right now.”

“I thought ahead and brought the needed packaging, sir.”

Moriarty snickered. “I’ll be there tonight and I want an explanation.”

They went to the location and got down into a nice wet room.  Not many stains from prior residents, but she still had the guard hose it down and bleach it before setting things up.

She sat on the box of “David White” or whoever he was, and watched the guard struggling to set up the Saint Andrew’s cross and the bench.  Once he was done she sent him out to buy a few less bulky things and dinner.

When he got back he helped her haul “David” out of the box and get him set up–he was starting to wake up anyway… a bit earlier than expected.

She gave him water but figured it was up to Jim to feed him.

She waited in the outer room with the guard.  A mousy, ordinary looking college kid  or an intern? wandered in clearly lost.  The guard started to move and Louise put her hand out. “The boss always sends messengers first; back down.”

“I’m… I’m supposed to get a password?” he bit his lip, clearly scared out of his mind.

Louise tried not to laugh and said, “Lonely.”

“Th-thank you… Can I please verify …?”

“This way.”  She gestured him in ahead of her and nodded at the guard to follow him.  Once they were inside the room she hit the guard with the injector.

“what?!”  He started to turn and Jim kicked his knee out.

Louise carefully removed his gun and watched him go under.  She winked over Moriarty’s shoulder at “David” who was attached to the cross, but not blindfolded this time.

“Hey boss.”

“Is that any way to talk to me after all this time?” Jim snorted.

“OOoh, sorry.” Louise laughed, “Oh  ruler of all he surveys, the terrible and  impossible: This guy was an informant and Phil thought you might like to have some fun…Your PRESENT–which I suggested– is behind you and used to work for the Iceman.”

Jim turned and stopped dead in his tracks.  The guy was a work of art, all muscle and danger and bright attentive blue eyes that kept flicking back and forth…

“ooooohhhhh…” Jim breathed, “Aren’t you a pretty thing…”

“Told Phil you’d like him.” Louise said smugly. “The fake ID was decent, but the fancy part is the ballistics report on our guy he took down. SWEET shot and from a hella distance.”

Jim wasn’t apparently paying much attention just wandering up to the cross.

“Boss?  Do I get help dragging this guy…” she sighed, “no of course not.”  She hauled him over and attached him to the bench.  She cut his clothes off and bundled them up. After a moment she gagged him–boss wouldn’t want to be interrupted.

Jim was running his fingers down the man’s chest and into the hollow before the muscles made way to softer skin and fine red curly hair.

“I… don’t suppose anyone is going to stop… uh… petting me, anytime soon.” The man’s voice was hoarse.

“Phil has lost his mind letting you go…” Jim breathed.

“Who’s Phil?” he asked.

“Who are you?” Jim smirked and brushed his hair back and stripped out of the sweater.

Louise rolled her eyes, “Enjoy, sir.”

“You get a bonus, Louise.” Jim smirked over his shoulder, “And another one if he tames down.”

“And that’s why you two love me.” Louise nodded, “Because I know what you like.  Did you already get a Valentine’s present for Phil or do you need a hand with that?”

“Already dealt with.” Jim laughed, “I don’t put things off to the last minute.”

Louise waved cheerfully at the prisoner, “Bye David, or whoever you are… if you survive? Remember you OWE me because I suggested this. See ya Boss!”

“I…owe her…?” Sebastian started coughing and the strangely familiar man came over with water and electrolytes.

“Oh you certainly do.”  The man said with a smirk, and the expression on his face snapped into place against file photos and records and Sebastian inhaled sharply.

“Correct. Jim Moriarty, the one and only.” He said still giving him liquid.

“You’re dead…” Sebastian almost whispered.  _Dear God, this was him? He was supposed to be dead and gone and… I’d been helping to do clean up…_

“So is Sherlock,” Jim put the bottle down and ran his fingers over him again, “Phil is losing it to let you go, but then… he is operating right under the Iceman’s gaze–you were probably too hot.”  He looked up, “and hot, too.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll believe I worked for Patterson either?”

Jim snorted. “No.”

“Neither did the other guy… I guess he was Phil.”  A bit more quietly, “I could use more to drink.”

Jim gave him some more drink and followed some of the water down his lips and throat with his fingers. “So what’s your real name?”

“Sebastian.  Mind telling me who Phil is?” _or how long I have to live, or why I’m alive, or how the hell you’re alive for that matter._

“Maybe someday.” Jim toyed with the curly red hair around what was an arguably quite nice prick. “Why dye your hair brown?”

“I just darken it.  It stands out less… uh… can you stop?”

“I can, but I won’t.  Phil sent you to me as a Valentine’s Day present–Louise’s suggestion.”

“Are you SERIOUS?”

“Yes, why? You’re very attractive…”

“Do you normally gift snipers to each other on Valentine’s?!”

Jim laughed and leaned up against him, “It’s the anniversary of a massacre, why not?” and he dug his fingers into his hair and kissed him.

… Sebastian moaned? And that twitch of his cock wasn’t faked.  Jim pulled back, keeping Sebastian’s head pulled back hard. “So what gets you off more, Sebastian? Being hurt…? Being helpless…?”

Blue eyes were wide and slightly panicked at him, “I’m not…”

Jim heard echoes of Watson’s ‘I’m not gay!’ and ran a tongue over his lips.  “Have you ever been with another man?”

“…I prefer girls.”  Sebastian didn’t even know why he was answering the man and that was already more information than he wanted him to HAVE.

“Hmm. Interesting.”  Jim glanced over at an array of toys Louise had left, next to Phil’s card, and a note.  He wandered over.  Phil’s card was simple: a dirty limerick and a hope that the iceman hadn’t frozen “David White’s” dick off.

Louise’s note though… She was observant and he’d apparently reacted very nicely to Phil touching him… and somewhat to being hit.

Jim picked up the flog and came back. “Now… for every correct answer you give me–”

“You think you can beat answers out of me?”

“Mmm, no.” Jim smirked, “for every correct answer you give me I’ll hit you nicely… for lies you get something else.”

“What?”

“So… your name is Sebastian… that’s worth a good start.” Jim hit him twice, nice even swings–just enough to pink the skin. “How long have you worked for the Iceman, Sebastian?”

“I don’t know who you mean.”

“tsk, bad boy…”  Jim got out the clamps and clipped two to the sensitive skin of his balls.  Sebastian hissed and gritted his teeth.

“Let’s try something simpler, “What’s your last name?”

“Moran.”  Sebastian got out through gritted teeth.  He was pretty sure that there were alerts in place if anyone looked him up.

“Good boy.” Jim hit two more times, crossing the previous strokes.

Jim alternated, simple questions and questions he didn’t want to answer.  At first he tried not answering any at all, but as the number of clamps started getting too intense, he answered the simple things just to avoid it.

Simple things: What day did he shoot his target? What building was he in? What was his favorite color?

For answering those he got a pair of flog hits just enough to start the endorphins…

Difficult things: where were you posted? How long did you work for the Iceman? Have you ever met Sherlock Holmes?

For that he got clamps or electricity.

After a while when the pattern had been established Jim switched a simple question with “how long have you worked for Mycroft Holmes?”

“Three years.”

Jim smiled and pulled a few of the clamps. Sebastian screamed and then bit back on it and clamped his jaw, panting.

“Now then, Sebastian, you should be flying quite nicely by now…” Jim pulled his head up and pressed his lips over his as he pulled a few more of the clamps… he kissed him as he screamed.

“So you worked for Mycroft for three years?” Jim murmured into his lips…”tell me more.”

Sebastian just shook his head.

Jim laughed and pulled away, “By all means… we have time… wouldn’t want you to push your limits.”

Jim spun, “so…” he said brightly, “a traitor… that’s always good for a laugh.”

Sebastian raised his head and remembered there had been… a guard?  An image of the girl winking at him as they took him down…

The other man was quite awake, unable to move, and unlike Sebastian he was gagged–he looked panicked.

Jim walked over and got an apple out of a bag, “so…” he bit into it, “I’m Jim Moriarty… and you…” he laughed and got out a knife, “You’re movie night”  he looked back at Sebastian, “How do you feel about splatter flicks, Sebastian?  I find them quite educational…”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of ways to interrogate someone....
> 
> (my proof reader and husband is still too ill to do a lot of proof reading- and has surgery coming up, so please bear with me)

Jim alternated giving Sebastian drinks –and taking off the clamps, which HURT and left behind a strange feeling like sparks–with taking the former guard apart with a knife. 

It was… it was horrifying in its precision.

Jim Moriarty was apparently an artist with a blade, and that had been NOWHERE in any briefing he’d been given.  Of course Moriarty was supposed to be dead, but still…

At some point, perhaps because he was bored, Jim walked away from the guard and trailed fingers over Sebastian, “You seem to have had a little accident.” He said stepping around the trail of liquid.

Sebastian swallowed, “Couldn’t find the men’s room.”

Jim laughed– a delighted sounding noise. “So what do they call you, hmm? Do you use Sebastian?”

He tried to think, but the pain–and yes the endorphins, because Moriarty was apparently really good with that flogger–were making it hard to think properly. Becoming friendly with your captor was a bad idea, but it was also sometimes the best way to survive. The guard had been a terrifying object lesson… Sebastian glanced at what was left of the man and shuddered,  “Sebastian, mostly; Tiger to my good friends.”

“Tiger…” Jim mused.  “Hmm. Why Tiger?”

“Dunno…” he let his head fall; he was becoming a good bit weaker already and he’d scarcely been hurt.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

A sudden pain caused him to gasp, and Jim’s voice sweetly said, “Yes, what?”

“Sir?”

“Good boy…” and he stroked across skin still ringing from the blow.

Jim came back and started feeding him a sandwich and giving him sips of drink.  The former guard was making incoherent pleas–for mercy, Sebastian supposed–Jim ignored him.

“Do you like being a sniper?” Jim asked him suddenly.

“Yes? Uh… yes sir?”

“What do you like about it?” He walked away and came back with some kind of dessert bar and started unwrapping it

Sebastian tried to understand what the man was after but finally just gave up, “The precision, the control, the power…”

“Have you ever killed up close?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you like it as much as killing by sniper fire?”

“…more.” He admitted.  He’d never admitted it out loud, but God help him he did.

“How about if I let you kill him?” he nodded at the wretch shivering and moaning on the bench.

“It would be a mercy… but no, it wouldn’t…”

“No thrill to it I suppose.”

“…no, sir.”

“hmm.”  He held a bit of the dessert bar to Sebastian’s lips–it was lemon and probably very good, but it was hard to care–he forced himself to eat it.

“No appetite?”

“…not really…sir.”

“Would you like to be let down?”

“Very much, sir.” Oh so very very much…

Something happened to his wrist, and then it was being moved over to his other wrist, and then… then he was collapsing onto Moriarty as the man eased him to the floor.  By the time he managed to regather his wits he was hearing the sound of a lock near his ankle.  He saw a chain attached to his wrists and followed the chain to a ring… through the ring… and to his ankle cuff. Damn.

Moriarty smiled at him. “Now, shall we bargain for a nice comfy mat?”

“I don’t exactly have my wallet…” Sebastian said drily, and added, “sir.” Rather quickly.

“What a quick study you are Sebastian…” Moriarty petted down his neck and then dug his fingers into his hair and pulled his head back, “Kiss me like you mean it…”

Sebastian was dizzy and– yes damn it he was  getting off on this to some small degree– wait, what did he say?

For the third time Moriarty kissed him like he owned him, and wanted his soul in the bargain.

Sebastian knew that the human mind and body fought to survive, knew that trying to survive meant pleasing  your captor to minimize harm, or avoid pain–and  that it was a real risk in interrogation. Moriarty had played his body with the same artistry he’d used to take that other poor bastard  apart, and Sebastian’s body and mind were primed to respond.

He knew that.

It didn’t help.

His body tried to arch into the kiss, heedless of the fingers in his hair holding his head back and he found himself moaning when the kiss ended…

Moriarty was looking down at him with avarice when he finally opened his eyes, “I owe her a bonus on top of her bonus…” he said with a wicked smile. “I’ll be right back with your mat, Tiger.”

Jim carefully let Sebastian down to the ground and walked off, whistling happily.  He came back with a mat and a wheeled cart full of useful things.

“Here you go, a nice comfy mat!” he put the foam mat down next to Sebastian and then started putting down a box full of  water, electrolytes and meal bars. “I have to be away and I’m not sure when I’ll get back, but this should last you a bit.”

He then hauled the traitor onto the cart–it didn’t take much– and  took him out, locking the door behind him.

Sebastian was left alone, dazed and bewildered and aching.  After testing his restraints and finding no way out, he decided to follow his anti-interrogation instructors’ advice and try to sleep.

Exhaustion turned out to be an excellent sleeping pill

He woke up slowly and found himself still quite alone.  He tried to keep any waste off the mat, and drank the water and ate the meal bars and  tried–with no success– to think of any way out.  The cuffs were  heavy and would be difficult to pick with tools; without tools they were impossible.

He wondered if leaving him here alone to contemplate was a tactic?  It might be… or it might not: he did remember that he was a surprise gift… from Phil–who was apparently running England in Moriarty’s absence…

In his absence, not after his death…

And they were close enough to exchange Valentine’s gifts?  He tried to consider his memories: Moriarty had spoken of Phil being a fool to give him up, and he remembered ‘Phil’s’ interest in him. _Moriarty definitely had an interest in me._

He was appalled that both men seemed to think he was… some kind of sex slave or something.

For that matter Louise? Louise had been the one to suggest it- said she knew Moriarty would like him…

Sebastian considered with some concern: I do get off on this– would get off on it a lot more if it was my idea; both men were far too observant-so was Louise; Jim-fucking-Moriarty was alive and apparently an artist with a flogger and a knife, and his mouth; Phil and Jim were lovers? Maybe… and both gay or at least into men…

And I was a Valentine’s present…

And no one– not even Mycroft Holmes– knew that Moriarty was still alive to be GIVEN a Valentine’s present…

…

I am in VERY big trouble.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sebastian gets in deeper, and safewords only work if you use them.

Jim found himself being distracted the entirety of the next day.  His gift, Sebastian, had definitely been responsive to being flogged, and being kissed, and having his head pulled back…

And that ballistics report…. _Ooooh damn, that ballistics report_ –he got hot just thinking about that.

The Iceman would have alerts on his agent’s cover name, real name, and so on, but there were far more ways to get information that had no alarms at all–including dear darling Magnussen’s own newspaper files. Jim started digging.

Sebastian looked up when the door finally opened again to a very cheerful looking Moriarty.

“You are one HELL of a Valentine’s present, did you know that?” Jim grinned and put down a take away box before getting out the cleaning supplies.

“So you said…sir…” Sebastian  watched warily as Jim got out various nasty looking implements, but they turned out to be exclusively for cleaning up and disposing of  various waste: then he hosed  everything down–including Sebastian–  before tossing him a towel.

When Sebastian finished drying himself off he found Jim sitting not far away with food–proper food.  He pushed a take away box over to him, “I brought you some. Your service record is extraordinary; I can see why the Iceman would recruit you…”

“What would you know about my supposed service record?” _If you looked that up it would have set off all kinds of alerts…_

“Oh, I have backstage access to some of the best newspaper sources around and an awful lot of military things get reported but never cleared for publication,” Jim smirked, “or they get requested to be held back by Mycroft Holmes in exchange for a few other tidbits, but the original reporting is still in the files…not government files, news archives and resources.” Jim rather cheerfully waved a plastic utensil at Sebastian, “I’m not such an idiot to go near anything that would set off an alert.”

Sebastian winced, “You were reputedly a genius… but then you were also supposedly dead.”

“I am a genius, and I’m officially dead–just not factually.” Jim snickered, “I’d make a poor witch; I’m not sincerely dead.”

Sebastian looked around at  the room…“So now what?”

“Any man that can hit a target at those ranges?  And has your hand to hand skills… I could use you…” Jim’s tongue lapped lightly at his teeth, “And given your response to fun and games? I could definitely use you.”

Sebastian tried to make sense out of this, he really did. “Not to cause a problem here, but … how in the hell would you ever trust me to work for you?”

“Direct to the critical point: I knew I liked you.” Jim pushed a soft plastic bottle of drink over to him. “You would, of course, have to prove yourself… and honestly I don’t expect that you would change your allegiances instantly.”

Sebastian glanced at the chain on his wrists. “Then what EXACTLY did you have in mind?... sir?” he indicated the chain, “not exactly in a position to prove anything, and I somehow doubt you’re going to let me loose and give me a weapon.”

Jim snickered, “no. I’m going to give you an opportunity, or two, or three. Let’s start with the first one: you like being flogged–want to do it again? No questions this time, just fun.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, “I have a choice?”

“Sure.” Jim stood up. “You can say yes, in which case you get a nice hit of endorphins and maybe a bit more… or you say no, in which case I leave you here and go find my fun elsewhere. Either way you won’t be hurt, you get food and drink, and taken care of…”

This… was not in ANY of his anti-interrogation training classes. “So if I said no, you just walk away…?”

“For now.”

“And if I said yes? Where does this stop…”

“Well, the hope is it doesn’t.” he finished off his food and took a drink, “stop that is.  But it stops when you say it stops.  I’m very good though.”

Sebastian started making notes in his head of some very strong words he was going to have with people if he survived.  “Alright…sir…”

Unfortunately Moriarty was very good at transferring him to a better position for flogging without once giving him a chance to escape.

Jim eyed Sebastian’s muscles twitching and his evident arousal–clearly torn between interest and sense: this was a MUCH better way to spend an evening than pouring over dreary old Magnussen’s blackmail– _BO-ring!_ Jim dragged his nails down the man’s back: based on how he responded to that, and the flogging and clamps before?  Never mind Phil letting him go; how had the Iceman let him out of his personal dungeons?  _Maybe Mycroft wasn’t into that?_ Jim considered… _no, the Iceman was TOTALLY into that…_

“I assume you understand safe words?” Jim asked and smiled wickedly as he walked around to stand in front of him.

Sebastian watched the hungry expression on Moriarty’s face and started thinking that agreeing had been a mistake. “Unfortunately, yes sir.”

“Why unfortunately?”

“I don’t think it’s helping my situation…”

Jim laughed, “Oh it’s helping you a LOT, honey… anyway do you have a favorite safeword or shall I pick one?”

“Are you seriously going to listen to me if I use one?”

“Probably… assuming you do, in fact, use your safeword…” Jim’s tongue flicked against his teeth again and Sebastian shivered.

“I usually used color codes: green for alright, yellow for slow down or–”

“and red for stop now.” Jim nodded and ran a hand over Sebastian’s chest. “I can work with that.”  He went over and opened a case, “So do you have a flog preference? Some people do… I have soft and thuddy and hard and stingy and … a few that will break skin.”  Jim watched the shiver run down the muscles until it ended in his cock taking even more of an interest. “Let’s start with something a bit harder than last time, shall we? Color?”

“Green…” came out of his mouth before he could think, then he started swearing under his breath.

“oh we are going to have SO much fun…”Jim chuckled.

Sebastian was torn between fighting it and treating this like a night in a club… either one had advantages, either one had issues… the first and second stroke were precisely placed and oh-so-familiar a feeling... the option of fighting it went right out of his head by the third lash.  Moriarty was keeping up a regular rhythm, moving steadily down his back… by the fifth strike the ground was moving out from under him and his back was lit up with sensation. By the seventh strike he’d stopped thinking about anything but right now, right here…

On the tenth strike Jim paused long enough to ask for a color… Sebastian responded, “green…” in a relaxed voice…

“Ten more…” Jim smiled and moved up to the harder lash.  He laid the stripes between the first marks–those were pink, these bloomed to red and raised nicely.  Sebastian was utterly relaxed in the restraints, keeping his weight on his feet but leaning on the support. “Color?”

“…you have a beautiful hand…”

Jim chuckled and ran his hand across the marks on Sebastian’s back–he moaned. “Should I take that as ‘green’ then? Or do you need a rest?”

“Green…more…or… more…”

Jim gave him ten more lashes and went back to petting him. “Would you like to come? Or edge?”

Sebastian couldn’t remember how he got here, but it didn’t matter… nothing mattered…“…edge…”

Jim almost came in his pants–this was a fantasy brought to life. “She gets a bonus on that bonus…Phil is going to scream…”

Jim stroked him until he was almost  there and begging and then went back to flogging him.  Eventually Jim left off the flog and was just stroking and teasing, pinching him and lightly scratching over the welts. Sebastian was incoherently begging, and groaning in a rumbling voice… very much like a big cat… and his head kept rolling back, making delightful mewling noises when Jim brought him to the edge…

The sounds alone would have gotten Jim off, without the rather delightful view– it took just a touch…

“Your turn, Tiger… it’s only fair…” Jim said breathlessly, and then pressed his chest up against the welts  on Sebastian’s back and reaching around.

Pleas and moans tumbled out of him as Jim stroked him just shy  or release.

“Such a wonderful present, Tiger, shall I wrap you up in a bow?”  Jim chuckled into his ear. “Maybe just this part?” as he stopped stroking to grip him firmly and hold while Sebastian tried to thrust against him desperately. Jim laughed and picked up the pace with his hands, while licking and biting at the man’s rather tasty–and striped– shoulders. 

Sebastian couldn’t think, he was utterly at his mercy–and he was an artist of pain and pleasure– and it was hell and it was heaven and then finally, finally…! Sebastian collapsed: held up by the restraints and the body pressed up against him.

Jim contemplated the man as he let him down to the mat: he was drifting and pliable, but hardly safe…

Jim looked at him: deadly, and beautiful and covered in stripes…Safe was over rated.

Jim carefully cleaned him up, rubbing his hands over the welts, coaxing little moans out of him.  Then he wrapped him up in a new soft blanket, and fastened a collar around his neck.

“This one is just temporary, Tiger… you’re a delight and you deserve better… such a VERY good Tiger…”

Sebastian sighed happily and slipped into sleep with Jim’s hand running over him.

 


	4. An Early Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several Months later...   
> (This story started in early February- Valentine's present- and this chapter takes place in early December)

It was a dreary December and Phil was immensely grateful for the early present from Jim–even if it did mean his own present had to be gotten ready a bit early.  He was more than slightly surprised to see Louise and her girlfriend–no, they got married last month: her wife– being dropped off at the gate as well.

“Well, this is a surprise…” Phil once again thought it was unfair that some of the hottest women he knew were confirmed lesbians. Still, warm sunny vacation, pool, two hot women in bathing suits, and some uninterrupted time with Jim? He’d try to be happy with just eye candy.

“Phil?” Louise got a speculative look, “Hmmm…”

Jim’s voice came from the speaker as the gate opened, “Do come in, the drinks are ready, and the appetizers will be out by the time you get up the drive…”

Phil made small talk as they walked in and tried to keep his eyes off Maeve’s ass–Louise laughed at him so he was probably failing.  The door was open and they walked in.

This was more like Jim’s usual style: fucking expensive and with hidden restraints and weapons everywhere.

“Phil! Good to see you without that damned beard.” Jim walked in with a tray and set it down. “Louise, Maeve, sorry I couldn’t be at the wedding, but I hope you liked the gift.”

Jim had evidently been working out and looked more fit than he had in years.

“It was lovely,” Maeve nodded, “and thank you both for the cruise: I don’t know when I would have gotten Louise away from work long enough to propose, otherwise.”

“So what’s the occasion?” Louise grinned, “as if I didn’t suspect…”

“Well, you always were smart,” Jim laughed and handed her an envelope, “Your bonus.”

Phil tried to sort it out and finally just sighed and asked, “Everything is running pretty smoothly at this point, and i already handed out holiday bonuses, so what’s the bonus for?”

“I think it’s for me…” an educated voice, with a sexy rumble…

Phil saw a very good looking man  walking in and sized up the  martial arts walk, the concealed weapons, and the muscles for work, not just the gym, before his eyes stopped on the ‘Jim’ scarred neatly over the man’s heart–visible because of his open shirt.

Sebastian walked up to his place next to Jim and sighed, “So YOU’RE Phil? Philip Anderson?”

Jim just grinned and trailed his fingers over the man’s hip possessively.

Phil’s mouth dropped open as he realized who… “You KEPT him?!” he stared at a smug looking Jim, “How the hell did you manage that Jimmy…?”

Maeve looked puzzled at Louise, “What?”

“He was a sniper who took down some of Phil’s people before he got caught…” Louise smirked, “And I pointed out that he’d make a fantastic Valentine’s Day present–which is why we got given a cruise, darling.”

Jim reached up and dug his fingers into the hair behind Sebastian’s ear, “And I promised you an extra bonus if he tamed down… which technically I suppose he didn’t.”

“I’m not TAME…” Sebastian tried to not react to the fingers doing wonderful things to him but he found himself leaning into them.

“True, a tame Tiger is rather useless…” Jim laughed and pulled Sebastian in for a kiss and bit his jaw. “Phil and I need to chat! Back soon…” and Jim grabbed Phil by the arm and they were gone before Sebastian could do more than groan.

Sebastian covered his face with his hand but when he looked back up both girls were still there, Louise openly smirking at him.

“Errr… If my rather scattered memory of that first day is correct, I think you said I owed you thanks  if it worked out…”

Louise’s smirk turned into a broad grin, “Yup.”

Sebastian tried to look anywhere but at the two of them, “then… uh… thanks, I think…”

“You think?”

“Most of the time I think I owe you a thank you, there are a few hours and days not so much…” Sebastian admitted.

“Yeah, well… Jim is… Jim.” Louise shrugged, “This is Maeve, my wife.”

“Ma’am.”  He nodded politely at her and then glanced at Louise, “is everyone that works in the organization gay?”

Louise was laughing so hard that Maeve had to answer, “No, but… it’s a sizable minority? When word gets out that we aren’t as bigoted as most, a lot of the folks that had to be in the closet elsewhere decide to come work for us.”

“Right.” Sebastian took a deep breath, “Well, I’m Sebastian–Jim calls me Tiger most days.”

“You didn’t look like a ‘David’” Louise nodded.

“And no one believed I worked for Patterson.”

“Well, he’s been under pretty heavy surveillance since well before you showed up,” Louise pointed out, “we would have known–besides, you were waaayyyy too good to work for that guy.”

~

Phil waited until they were in Jim’s office before saying, “Damn– I knew he was good looking but he cleaned up NICE!”

“I figured you must have regretted giving him up,” Jim laughed and poured them both a drink.

“It’s safe to leave him alone, I take it?”

“More or less: he won’t hurt them, and he’s too well trained–and interested– to try to bolt randomly.”

Phil looked wistfully back toward the main rooms, “I never even got a taste before I shipped him off–Louise said he reacted well… I’m guessing your name on him says he does.”

Jim’s eyes glittered with that mad sparkle that was equal parts trouble and attraction and he said, “Sebastian lay on my bed and kept his hands on the headboard rails while I carved it in the first time…”

Phil stared at him, “he wasn’t restrained?!”

Jim grinned wickedly, “No, not for that… I told him I wanted to be sure he wanted it…”

Phil groaned, “Let me guess, no borrowing him?”

“Not on a bet darling, no take-backs on my present… although maybe someday he might feel comfortable with a three way.”

“Jimmy, I take back everything I ever said about you not knowing how to train a pet.”

“Well, Phil…” Jim moved up and wrapped his arms around him–pulling him down for a kiss, “You like kitty cats… and I prefer Tigers.”

Phil kissed him, and their hands fell back into habit until they were both panting and hard…

“Want me to get you a tiger tail plug and a pair of tiger ears?” Phil asked as he lifted Jim up to sit on the desk.

“YOU want to see him in that… I just like him in stripes…” Jim managed to free his erection and gave Phil a challenging look, “Sebastian is pretty darn good at blow jobs, Phil, maybe I’m spoiled…”

“Pretty darn good,” Phil snorted and started to work.

~

Sebastian’s head snapped up and around when he heard Jim… that sounded… he was halfway to the door when Louise called out, “Hey!  What?”

“That was Jim…”

Louise rolled her eyes, “Phil… and Jim…” and then her look softened, “oh, right, it’s just been you two… don’t worry about it, Sebastian–they have crazy sex anytime they get within ten feet of each other, but…don’t worry;  they CAN’T live together.”

Sebastian’s blood pressure was going up with every sound. “Why not?”

“They’ll be at each other’s throats within a week–seriously.”

“So is it SAFE?” he jerked his head toward… _Damn it! Jim only made those noises for ME!_

“Perfectly safe.” Louise nodded, “They’ve been together since before I met them.”

“I can see why he calls you Tiger.” Maeve said softly as she watched him pace anxiously.

~

Eventually Jim and Phil came out of the office–Jim had his arm around Phil’s waist and Phil had his arm over Jim’s shoulder and they were laughing.

Phil hadn’t lived this long by being as oblivious as he pretended to be–his head snapped up and he locked onto the icy blue glare Sebastian was giving him.

“Damn, Jimmy, do I need a whip and a chair to come visiting?” Phil carefully removed his arm from around Jim’s shoulders.

“Hmm?” Jim tracked over to Sebastian and back to Phil… _Oh_.  He walked over to Sebastian, “Jealous, Tiger?  Don’t be– didn’t Phil give you to me?”

Sebastian tried to see it that way–tried. “I’m not used to… you being with other people…”

Jim sat down and tugged at Sebastian.  He looked a bit pained at the other guests, but went to the floor at Jim’s feet.  Jim started rubbing at his scalp until the tension went out of him.

“So… I was going to show you where to put your things, but we got a bit distracted so it will wait. Anyway…” Jim started asking a mixture of personal and business questions while Sebastian sat at his feet and tried to pay attention–and not be TOO embarrassed.

Louise reported about business, and chatted about personal things Jim had missed as though Sebastian had always been there: it took Phil a bit longer to relax about him. When he got to some business interests that overlapped Sebastian’s old job he flashed one of their private codes for ‘are you SURE, Jimmy?’ but Jim just nodded.

“So… the Iceman himself went off on a trip… and you know how rarely he leaves the office, much less the country…”

Sebastian blinked and tried to sit up straighter–difficult with Jim’s fingers stealing his brains.

“Oh yes,” Jim nodded, “He’s probably on his way to Serbia–Sherlock got himself into rather a pickle.”

“Oh?”

“Remember that arms trading group we cut off business with?”

“Oh yeah, them.” Phil sniffed derisively, “Crude.”

“He got too close and got captured–my agent inside tipped me off, so I tipped off MI6.”

Phil nodded, “You think they’ll resurrect him finally?”

“They will,” Maeve said quietly, “they almost had his reputation cleared, so he’ll be able to be public soon: besides, my cousin says Magnussen has been poking around about him after talking to Mycroft and others in high places, so… he expects him back.”

“Ugh, Mags…” Jim rolled his eyes. “However Janine stands him I don’t know.”

Maeve smiled and lowered her head over her drink, “Viciously sadistic fanfiction writing mostly–featuring Magnussen stand-ins dying horribly.”

Jim laughed and then glanced at his phone, “Dinner’s ready– you lot get washed up and Sebastian and I will get it out to the table.”  He told them where their rooms were and got up–Phil watching enviously as Sebastian unfolded himself from the floor with lethal grace–and went into the kitchen.

~

Jim smiled as Tiger started getting the food plated. “I did tell you that you would find out who Phil was eventually.”

Sebastian tried for something neutral and ended up with: “he doesn’t look like his photos…”

“He never does, the man’s almost as good a chameleon as I am.”  Jim wrapped his arms around Sebastian and leaned into his shoulder.

“You…” Sebastian cleared his throat.

“Ask.”

“I could hear you, you know.” Sebastian winced at how whiney that sounded.

Sebastian could feel Jim’s smile against his shoulder as he said, “Phil is an artist on his knees, even if he isn’t submissive in the slightest.”

“He…isn’t?” _wait… that was good…_

“No, and he’s no sniper, either–don’t tell him I said so, but he’s a lousy shot.” Jim could feel some of Sebastian’s tension ease.

Sebastian didn’t say anything else as he got dinner on the table.  Jim sat at one end of the table and directed Sebastian to the other.

They chatted about inconsequential things mostly over dinner, but over tea and coffee, Jim poked Phil, “Phil… tell Sebastian what happened the last time we tried to live together.”

Phil choked on his tea. “You timed that!” he accused Jim as he wiped off his  shirt.

“Naturally, so tell him…”

“It went great for about… three days?” he glanced at Jim who nodded, “about that.”

Phil looked up at the ceiling, “then for about a week it was… ok, but… when we weren’t fucking it was awkward… and then… well then it got bad.”

Jim sighed, “I’m still sorry about your car, Phil.”

“Yes, well… I shouldn’t have set fire to the closet, but…”

“Your pet was getting on my nerves,” Jim narrowed his eyes, “She got GUM on the sofa!”

Phil raised an eyebrow, “if we’re going to compare dry cleaning bills…”

Jim pinched the bridge of his nose, “no… besides you pile your clothes in the corner.”

“Only the clothes that are supposed to look like I pile them in a corner!” Phil laughed. “But don’t start: I still have blackmail photos of you in jeans and a t shirt with cats on it.”

Jim stared at him, “You do NOT!”

“Molly… gave them… to me…” Phil grinned wickedly, “as evidence…”

Louise was looking back and forth and then turned to Sebastian, “and that’s why you don’t have to worry.”

“First I will skin you if you don’t hand those over,” Jim growled, “Secondly when the HELL did she get a photo of that!”

Sebastian was looking and listening with an increasingly bewildered look, “They act like…”

Louise shrugged, “Don’t ask me–they’ve been a package deal my whole career.”

Jim looked over from his argument with Phil, “We grew up together, more or less.”

Phil laughed, “We were both in the same foster house when we were just old enough to realize that  we each liked boys, and hated stupid people.”

Jim snorted, “I started hating stupid people at birth.”

“Well you were precocious, Jimmy.” Phil threw an arm around him, “so seriously… as I remember your boy there had a mighty nice body…”

Jim swatted him, “You’ll get him all dirty.”

“Well… yeah?”

Jim looked over at Sebastian and then back at Phil, “Like I said, no take-backs on my present, but if SEBASTIAN is interested in a threesome someday, it’s fine by me–but it’s up to him.”

“No.” Sebastian said hurriedly.

Phil looked disappointed, “Well, tell me if he changes his mind–I’m still going to drool, obviously.”

“Of course you are!” Jim nodded, “Sebastian is a work of art.”

Phil considered… “So I get dibs on Sherlock when he’s back?”

“Phil!”

Sebastian got up and walked over, “However interesting to finally meet you, Phil, I can tell you from personal experience that Mister Holmes keeps a very close eye on his brother–so if you do try for it? You better be prepared for that level of scrutiny.”

Jim grinned, “Finally decided to tell me more about your time working for the Iceman, Sebie?”

Sebastian smiled faintly, “Well… Maybe if you questioned me… thoroughly.”

Jim stood up. “Ah well, got to go: prisoners to interrogate you know.” he waved as he walked Sebastian off to their playroom.

…

Phil looked envious. “Damn.”

Louise grinned, “You had very good reasons to give him up, and now you have an advantage.”

“What advantage?!”

“If I were you I would challenge him to top that for your Valentine’s present next year…”

Phil leaned over, took her hand, and kissed it. “Louise, you are an evil genius and I owe you one.”

 


End file.
